


War & Trust

by Saifa



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Near character death, Pre-Canon, Sick Character, Sick Fic, Sickfic, Violence, War, War Fic, kingdings, minor monster characters, pre-timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 21:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14197683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saifa/pseuds/Saifa
Summary: Asgore, his royal guardsmen, and Gaster are in the middle of a battle against the humans. Monsters are losing and the humans are bent on ending things once and for all. Someone gets hurt.





	1. Consequence

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, another fic I wrote for my dear friend, Vero, to celebrate her birthday, because we're besties. Plus, she loves KingDings. It somehow turned into a two parter, so here is the first chapter. The second will be up shortly as of writing this.
> 
> PS - I am supremely terrible at ships.

           Blood and dust. The air was thick with the scent. Beneath the fine, ashen powder, the land was painted red. The bodies of humans covered the battlefield, each having succumbed only to the grimmest of wounds. With each human that fell, two monsters resolved to dust and were carried away by the wind.

           Magic crackled around Asgore as he swung his trident. His flames swept across the ground, consuming flesh and scorching dirt. He had lost track of the number of humans he slain. The amount offered no solace when compared to the number of his subjects he failed to protect. Still, the humans pressed inwards on the king and his small group of royal guardsmen. Gaster stood off to his side summoning a barricade of bones in an attempt to keep the opposing army at bay.

           “My king, we must fall back!” Gaster warned in a hoarse voice. He cast his blue magic on several enemy souls. The weight of his magic made their bodies collapse. They writhed on the ground, screaming angrily and clawing at the dirt. Despite Gaster’s efforts, more from the enemy army charged forward to replace them. He sent a flurry of sharpened bones and one by one the frontlines fell. He was exhausted. 

           “We cannot give up! If we surrender this ground, we will never recover,” Asgore roared with desperation. His trident clanged as it blocked the downward stroke of a sword. He locked weapons with the human soldier and glared fiercely at them.

           “We already will never recover,” Gaster responded gravely. A bone club formed in his hand. He raised it in time to turn and block an attack coming from his right. Iron and bone crossed and he strained as he tried to push the soldier away. Gaster grunted and shifted his weight. He gave to the opposing force and turned to avoid a counterattack. The human stumbled forward and Gaster planted a kick on their back. As they fell, a pointed bone rose from the dirt to impale them. The human screamed, gripping the shaft of the bone and tried to push themselves off. Blood oozed from their torso. They coughed and more of it dripped and splattered out of their mouth.

           “Stay with me, old friend,” Asgore huffed. He twisted his trident and tore the sword from the soldier’s hands. The sword flung through the air and pierced the scarred earth. With a powerful sweep of his trident, he slashed at the frozen human. Blood splattered on his face and stained his fur. The human fell to their knees in a daze and died at his feet.

           “I admire your mettle, your majesty, but we must.” Gaster scanned his surroundings. The dust at their feet was piling up. He summoned another barricade of bones to block the oncoming onslaught. The bones erupted from the earth, their pointed ends sticking outwards at the enemy and piercing at the sky like crooked teeth. Harsh screams could be heard from the other side as a multitude of soldiers were impaled.

           Asgore wasn't listening. He was lost to his rage. He roared at the soldiers on their side of the barricade. He waved his hand, causing a rush of scorching flames to engulf some of them. He inhaled the smell of burning flesh and welcomed it. “We will  _ not  _ back down from them!” 

           It wasn't long until the burning men collapsed. Their bodies were charred and hairless with indistinguishable features. In death they added to the strewn and ugly collection that littered the land. Seeing their comrades slain, the remaining glared at Asgore as they approached. Their boots kicked at the dust and they gripped their weapons. Sweat dripped from their brows as the fires fed off the nearby corpses. Firelight reflected off of swords, maces, and axes. One soldier raised his sword and howled at the sky. He broke out into a run, his eyes set on the king. The others followed.

           “Protect His Royal Majesty!” A royal guardsman called. The monster threw themself in front of Asgore with their sword. Magic and iron clashed as the soldier met the guard. They locked eyes, both grunting from the force of the other. The human’s gaze was fiercer and his strength grew. The guard slid back the more the human pushed against them. The soldier was gaining ground and in his fury he swung his sword wildly. Each blow was barely blocked.

           All around them the humans swarmed, overwhelming the royal guard. Already exhausted, the guards casted a storm of magical bullets. It was no matter, for when the humans fell, their bodies nearly broken, their mettle was greater than their aching bones. Quickly, they rose again.

           Gaster’s bones rattled from exhaustion and radiated heat. He could feel his magic weakening. It took all his effort to summon walls of bones to protect himself. His movements were sluggish and the soldiers around him knew it. He had neither the strength to wield a bone weapon nor block with one. Desperately, he pushed a human away and extended his magic outward, enveloping several souls. He flung them at the bone barricade, cringing when their bodies crashed into it.

           Gaster’s vision blurred, the edges growing darker. His soul felt faded and ill. He fell to his hands and knees, the threat of unconsciousness ever present. He lifted his head to see what was left of the royal guard. One by one their bodies fell as iron bashed and sliced through them. They hit the ground and exploded into dust. The soldiers kicked at their remains as they charged, causing clouds to rise behind them.

           “Cut down the king and we end this!” The leader shouted.

           Asgore furrowed his brow as he gazed at what became of his guardsmen. He gripped his trident and made a sweeping gesture. Magic crackled and ignited into flames. The soldiers scattered to avoid the worst of it, then fanned out to surround the king. When the last of the flames burnt out, they charged all at once with weapons gleaming. Asgore strength waned as he swung and deflected. He planted his foot on a soldier’s chest and kicked them away, only to meet more of their comrades.

           Gaster spied the leader crouch behind the king as the others swarmed around him. The soldier’s sight was full of venom and malice. Staggering to his feet, Gaster stumbled forward with a bone club in hand. He willed himself to run despite how fiercely his bones ached and burned. The leader dashed forward and raised his weapon. Upon the downward stroke, Gaster slid into view with bone shaft raised. “Asgore, you fool-”

           There was a splintering crack. Asgore swept his trident to reclaim some ground, then whirled around to see the raised, split bone. Gaster stood stunned. The leader’s sword cut across his collarbone and sternum.  He gasped and focused on maintaining his balance.  Darkness pressed on the edges of his vision. He saw the glint of iron as another soldier swung a mace at his skull. His vision flickered black from pain and he hit the ground hard. Before Asgore could react, the soldier swung the mace at Gaster’s ribs. Another brought down an ax, embedding it above Gaster’s right eye. His skull began to split, the fissures running deep and along the top of his skull. They lifted the ax, along with Gaster’s head, and attempted to pry it out. Gaster feebly reached for the handle’s shaft. He made a noise that was a cross between a groan and a gurgle, then grunted when the soldier pressed their foot against his chest and shoved him off the blade.

           “G-Gaster!” Asgore choked out as he watched in horror. The leader raised his sword to deal the final stroke, but Asgore lashed out with flames. The fire ensnared the soldier and the rest of the humans jumped back. “No, no, no,” Asgore begged as he scooped up Gaster into his arms. “Please, no! Don’t you do this, old friend!”

           Gaster winced weakly. His eyelights were extinguished. His sockets stared blankly at the sky and swallowed the clouded sunlight. Asgore shifted Gaster’s body, causing him to give another gurgled groan.

           Whatever rage Asgore possessed had evanesced. He conjured another blast of flames that licked at the humans and covered for them to escape. In the distance, Asgore spied the mountain dressed in haze. It was there his wounded forces retreated to. He held Gaster tightly and close to his chest while grunting curses under his breath. His boots pounded the earth, each jolt causing Gaster to grimace and slip further away from consciousness. “Hang on, old friend,” Asgore pleaded between heavy breaths. “Please, hang on.”


	2. Surfacing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gravely injured, Asgore watches over Gaster and heals him. Gaster realizes their relationship has changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be room for a third chapter if I ever find the time and if I think it's necessary. I still got to do the second chapter for VNV too. But for now, I hope you enjoyed reading.

           The caverns were quiet. The air was thick with dust. Monsters laid on the ground in rows while a rabbit monster tended to their wounds. As she shuffled from patient to patient, plumes of dust rose after her. Her fur was ashen, having long given up cleansing it from her hands and face. Cleaning was a waste of time she could not afford. The piles of dust were her patients’ bedding now.

          She moved to a secluded chamber towards the back of the cavern and knelt beside Gaster. He lied deathly still. Bandages were wrapped around his skull, holding it together and covering his eyes. His bones were brittle and patterned with cracks. Slowly, the cracks spread along his skull and down his sternum. The rabbit monster hovered her trembling hands over Gaster’s body and casted a soft verdant glow. The light seeped into his bones and mended some of the splitting.

          Asgore’s heavy steps filled the cavern. He looked over his still subjects solemnly, then approached the rabbit monster. Turning, she looked up at him with exhausted eyes. The green light faded and she rested her hands on her lap. “My king…?” she asked hesitantly. “What may I do for you?”

          It was a few moments before Asgore was able to speak. He frowned at her, then looked down at Gaster, flinching at the cracks he saw on his face. He let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders sagged. “How is he?” Asgore asked in a soft and rough voice.

          She glanced away, then shook her head. “I am unable to do more for him. If my magic were stronger… If I was not so tired…” she said, voice trembling. She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve and exhaled a shuddering breath. “There are too many wounded for us to handle. I fear the worst for everyone, especially for him.”

          “I understand,” Asgore said kindly, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You look dreadful, my dear. I urge you to get some rest. I will watch over him.”

          The rabbit monster nodded, then rose shakily to her feet. “Thank you,” she said quietly, bowing her head. “Let me know if you need anything.”

          Asgore watched her shuffle away and retreat to her own chamber. He sighed mournfully as he crouched beside Gaster. He made a move to examine the cracks covering Gaster’s body, but fell short. Instead, he casted his own healing magic. It was a brighter, warmer glow with a richer green to it. The minor cracks mended and receded, but the more serious breaks and splits remained. Heat radiated off of Gaster’s bones and reached Asgore’s hands as they hovered over Gaster’s damaged collarbone and sternum. “This is my fault,” he said mournfully to himself. “You deserved better.”

          The king stiffened upon hearing Gaster groan softly and his healing magic faded. Gaster’s head shifted, as if to look in Asgore’s direction. He winced, inhaling sharply, then let out a pained moan.

          “Asgore…?” Gaster asked with uncertainty, his voice barely audible.

          “I am here, my friend,” Asgore said. He looked over him worriedly. “How do you feel?” He reached for Gaster’s hand and gently squeezed it.

          Gaster laid in silence. The longer the empty space stretched between them, the deeper the king’s brow furrowed. “I can’t see,” Gaster finally said quietly.

          “You have bandages covering your eyes. Your skull was badly damaged when–” Asgore’s voice caught. He saw the raised ax in his mind, the sharp edge glinting in his memory. The sound of iron splitting bone filled his ears. A painful lump formed in his throat. His chest ached with guilt and he hung his head. Slowly, he exhaled a rattling breath, then cleared his throat. “Your skull is being held together while your injuries heal.”

          Asgore shifted in the silence. He looked at Gaster expectantly for a response. His chest knotted with worry when none came.

          “If there is anything I can do for you,” Asgore began, his voice wavering slightly, “please do not hesitate to ask.”

          The silence dragged on.

          Asgore sighed. He took a seat beside him and hung his head. “I am terribly sorry, old friend. You were right. I was being foolish and let my stubbornness and anger blind me from doing what was best. It took almost losing you on the battlefield to make me realize and understand that. I do not expect you to forgive me, nor should you. I will be here for you though if you want me to be...”

          “Asgore…” Gaster began, his voice strained. “I’m not angry with you.”

          Asgore gave him a bewildered look. “I...don’t understand…”

          “I’m glad to hear you’re safe. That’s all I wanted.” Gaster slowly sat up unsteadily. He hissed out a pained, rattled breath.

          “No!” Asgore placed his hands carefully on Gaster’s shoulders. “You need to stay down. You’ve already over-exerted yourself.”

           Gaster clutched at his cracked ribs and shook his head. “I'm not fond of the idea of lying in someone else’s dust,” he said through gritted teeth, “nor am I useful to you here.”

           “Gaster…” Asgore started, “you have done enough. You kept me alive and safe. It is a debt I will never be able to repay.” He looked at him solemnly. “Please, you need to heal.”

           The bandages concealed enough of Gaster’s expression to make Asgore reconsider if anger existed beneath them. As if sensing his worries, Gaster sighed and shook his head. “I’m just tired,” he said slowly before the king could speak.   
           Asgore heard the edge in Gaster’s voice. It was sharp like the violent iron blade that crept back into Asgore’s mind. He cringed in horror, recalling again the swift snapping and splitting of bone. He felt Gaster’s body trembling hard in his hands, and his eyes widened in realization. “You’re in a lot of pain…”

           “My king, you have more pressing matters to worry about.”

           Asgore looked over his friend, his expression forlorn. “The war will keep until morning. There will be no battle songs sung tonight.”

           Gaster fell quiet. He lacked the energy to protest.

           “I know now what you are trying to do. Please, do not spare me from my mistakes and your pain.”

           “Feeling guilty will do you no good.”

           “It is my choice to bear it,” Asgore said softly. “Let me see.” He reached for Gaster’s injured side, brushed away his hand, and lifted the garment to view the wound. Asgore exhaled heavily at the extent of the damage. Several ribs were broken with large and small cracks branching out. The pieces were loosely held together with feeble and fading magic. “Don’t waste your strength. I’ve got you.”

           Asgore carefully pulled Gaster close and wrapped his arms around him. He gently pressed his hand against Gaster’s side and directed his healing magic. Gaster winced and let out a shuddering, ragged breath. Asgore’s embrace caught him by surprise and kept him still, so all he could do was lean back into his chest.

           Gaster’s head pounded. It felt like his eye sockets were cracking in half, and perhaps that was not far from the truth. Every bone in his body ached and burned with fever. He had fought well beyond his limits in order to keep the king safe. It would take weeks for his magic to recover, and many more for the gravest of his injuries to mend completely. He couldn’t stop shaking from the tremendous amount of pain he was in, nor could he manage to relax despite Asgore’s comforting presence. His shoulders remained tense. Despite years of knowing the king, he had never been this close to him before.

      “What are you doing?” Gaster asked stiffly. He shivered from Asgore’s fingers stroking his ribs. The king’s magic was familiar to him, but feeling it seep into his bones and becoming one with his being was something new he found difficult to process. The intimacy was something he was not accustomed to.

           Gaster’s thoughts were foggy. It took effort to form them, let alone a sentence. His mind burned with delirium and he flinched when Asgore lightly felt his forehead. He heard the king hum with concern, then mumble something he couldn’t quite catch. Asgore’s voice rumbled in his chest. Gaster felt the sound resonate up and down his spine, followed by a chill. 

           “My king, you don’t have to continue,” Gaster said breathlessly. “I should be stable enough now.”

           At first the king remained silent. He sighed and hung his head so that it  barely rested on Gaster’s shoulder. “If that is what you wish...” he said hesitantly, his voice trailing off. Beneath his words was something masked. Gaster had caught the slightest tremor in his voice.

           Gaster shivered  when a lock of Asgore’s hair brushed against his neck vertebrae. The king’s body felt cool against his. He was used to warmth from Asgore’s hands whenever he shook them in exchanging pleasantries, so he found this situation entirely strange. His head felt heavy from fatigue and the continuous headache. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, if only his pain would ease.

           “If I may be honest,” Asgore said, breaking through Gaster’s thoughts, “I must ask you to let me continue. I’m afraid of losing you again.” His fingers brushed above Gaster’s right eye. Wisps of green magic washed over the fracture and began to mend the loose pieces together. “Please, let me stay with you.”

           Pain sliced through Gaster’s skull. He felt a phantom memory of the ax, and it left him dizzy and breathless. Whatever strength he had left faltered. In the end, it was Asgore’s embrace that kept him upright. Wincing and in a daze, he allowed himself to fall back into Asgore’s arms. The tension in his shoulders melted away as the sharp aching in his skull dulled.

           Perhaps it was the influence his fever had over him, feeling this weak and near death, or being gingerly held in Asgore’s arms, but he knew there was something in his soul that changed. He felt it in how his soul resonated with Asgore’s magic, how the king’s body felt against his burning bones, and how his bones mended. Asgore’s magic was soothing. It was cool and calm like a still lake, and it relieved the heat in his body as it filled the cracks and fractures. He found himself wanting to give in to its intimacy and float idly on its surface.

           “Rest easy, my dear friend,” Asgore said, relieved to feel the tension in Gaster’s body ebb away. He lightly traced and retraced his fingers along the fracture. Gaster groaned in relief and his trembling lessened. The pain was becoming tolerable, but the absence of its previous intensity left him light headed. Seeing Gaster relax, the king smiled softly. “You’ll need more healing in the future, but for now this is a good start.”

           Asgore slid his hand under Gaster’s shirt, causing Gaster to flinch and catch his breath. The king paused, waiting for permission to proceed. 

           Gaster turned his head away, then gritted his teeth. “If that’s the case, I’d rather have you do it,” he said in a quiet voice with a twinge of nervousness to it. Gaster winced and shivered when Asgore rested his hand on his sternum. He covered his mouth, afraid he’d make a sound. His body was rigid again. If the king noticed, he made no comment and Gaster was grateful for it. The close proximity of Asgore’s magic to his soul made him feel paralyzed. He sensed his relationship with the king had changed. The prospect terrorized him and his soul wanted to burst and dissolve.

           Asgore hummed a sigh, his voice once again reverberating down Gaster’s spine. His expression grew pensive as he thought. “Tonight will be the last night of war,” he said slowly, measuring each word. His voice was thick with melancholy. “Tomorrow, monsterkind must surrender. It was always inevitable. I just refused to see it. I know not what will happen, but I will lay down my life for my people if I have to.” The echo of his words rumbled like thunder from a distant storm long passed.

           Gaster said nothing. He turned the words over in his mind and recognized the weight of anxiety they carried.

           “But in this moment, I am at peace. I am with someone I love. Miraculously, he is not angry with me despite how I deserve every measure of his fury.” Asgore encircled his arms around Gaster tightly. He rested a hand on Gaster’s collarbone to address the final injury.

           The soothing effect of Asgore’s magic took hold. Gaster allowed Asgore to pull him closer without hinderance or protest. Asgore’s words struck him with uncertainty, causing his chest to tighten. He tried to speak, but dread confined his voice. Instead, he listened to Asgore’s breathing to ground himself and reachive some clarity. Tilting his head back so it rested against Asgore’s chest, he sighed. Strangely, Asgore’s words also brought him the relief he desperately needed.

           “Asgore…”

           The king’s attention piqued.

           “I wish I could see you  with my eyes before tomorrow if the worst should come,” Gaster said softly. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you either.” Cautiously, he reached up to touch Asgore’s face.

           Asgore gasped quietly in surprise. He remained frozen in place for a few moments, then reached for Gaster’s hand, pressing his cheek into Gaster’s palm. He closed his eyes and took in the moment all the while his shoulders shook. They rested their hands on the ground with fingers knitted together.

           Gaster felt exhausted. What would become of Asgore’s fate filled him with dread and drained at his soul. He squeezed the king’s hand. The thought of letting go unsettled him, and the threat of sleep claiming him soon did little to set him at ease. “We’ll make it through,” he said while slipping from consciousness. 

           He heard the king hum in consideration.

           “If the worst should come, just know I’ll never be afraid to die for you again.”


End file.
